Zenryoku Shounen
by BrazilianMafioso
Summary: Alfred's a teen who can't afford college. Ivan's the rich heir to a major Russian company. They're at two totally different points of the social scale, yet, somehow, they can't seem to get away from each other. Gosh I suck at suck at summaries.
1. Prologue or Preface?: Waiting

**The name comes from the song Zenryoku Shounen (duh?) by Sukima Switch for the anime "Tokyo Marble Chocolate." It's not a songfic, though.**

**I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia. If I did, America would be the main chacter, and the absolutely, irrefutable canon pairing would be Russia/America.**

**Prologue: Waiting**

"Mr. Braginsky, sir, are you ready?"

"As I will ever be."

"It's time to leave, sir."

"Mm."

"Sir?"

It appeared to be an ordinary cemetery, sitting on an ordinary hill, on the outskirts of an ordinary rural town.

In fact, it was.

Two men stood in front of a single grave, one man considerably taller than the other. His beige-blond hair and scarf were rustled by the soft wind that blew by. His violet eyes spoke of pain and sadness as he gazed at the grave.

"Sir, are you okay?" In concern, the shorter man bobbed his head to the side to get a better look at the other's face. "Mr. Braginski, if you want, we can come back tomorrow and the day after that, and we can even come every day if it makes you feel better."

"Nyet. Today should suffice for the year."

Of course it did. This was the only day Ivan would ever allow himself to come here. Toris shifted his weight and whistled softly for a few moments.

"Toris."

The other perked up at the mention of his name. "Yes, what is it, sir?"

"Is it possible for God to hate a person?"

Toris was taken aback. "Mr... Braginsky?"

Ivan gazed up at the sky. The sun was setting, casting a magnificently magical glow. All hues of reds, oranges, and yellows, played and radiated themselves from the sun. He stared with a glazed look in his pale-violet eyes, as if in reminiscence.

"Yes, I believe it is so. God plays us like fools. Expects us to play our part, yet when we try against our fate, even if it is not to be so, he allows us. He let's us continue acting on what we believe is right. He glances at us with a loving smile and may even encourage us, but this is only a ruse. His real expression for these humans is one of disgust and contempt." His fists tightened. "'How dare these humans go against what is laid out for them?'"

"And then, when things appear to be perfect, he brings down his fist and destroys everything."

It was silent for a while.

"It's time to go, sir."

There was no answer this time, and Toris sighed. He would go wait in the car.

He quietly back stepped and started towards the black Chevy that hummed steadily at the side of the road, with the key still in the ignition. It was only supposed to be a quick visit before going to work again. Knowing Ivan, it would probably be at least a few hours. The client might not be able to wait, but Toris could.

He could _always _wait.

He was quite an expert at patience by now.

Everyone who knew Ivan was.

Except for one person.

Wheat-blonde hair, a cowlick, and an exuberant smile flashed through his mind.

Toris smiled nostalgically. He closed his eyes, laid his head back on the cloth seating, and remembered.

**Prologue End**

**OHHH. DUDE. DID I JUST ALLOW THAT TO GET SENTIMENTAL?**

**I need to practice writing angst and, um, ...coughsmutcough. Yeah, I'll face it: I can't write it. I've never even tried. So I'll practice with this story. But it's mostly gonna be fluffy and angsty and stuff... For some reason, the plot in my head reminds me of a movie... I don't know what, though.**

**And to end this little rant, I'll just say that the main pairing is gonna be Russia and America. Except, it's AU, so it'll be Ivan and Alfred. And then there's gonna be some more pairings too. But I'm still deciding most of them. And I can't figure out one for China for some reason... At the end, should he just be like the father figure who looks over everyone with a smile as they frolic and stuff? ...I think you get what I mean? ^^; **

**An-n-nd that's it. I'll write the next chapter soon. Please review and tell me any mistakes you saw, or just tell me what you liked or didn't like :)**

**...I didn't forget anything, did I?**


	2. Chapter 1: Legends of a Sillyhead

**I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia. I own an America plushie, though! I sleep with him at night~ CB**

**And technically, I don't own the title either. ... I think. It's kinda the ending to "Tokyo Marble Chocolate." It's an adorable little anime if any o' you haven't seen it. And after reading the translated lyrics, I think this story's kind of based off the song?**

**I got the title of this chapter from one of the songs on the OST to the game "Mana Khemia." That's a wonderful game as well. I'm surprised it's not more popular... But the name's exactly the same, and for some reason, it was the only song I listened to for this chapter. ...Except the angsty parts. No music goin' on there... And I was also listening to the song Disciplinarian of Youth... If they hadn't used this song for Mana Khemia, it woulda been Germany's theme. No, I'm serious. Like, seriously.**

**Here's the link if you want it**

**Legends of a Sillyhead – **http : / www . youtube . com / watch ? v = iGlV6vXQ1Aw

**Disciplinarian of Youth– **http : / www . youtube . com / watch ? v = 2wax0xCd2Vs

**Oh, and in case I don't get to it, this is set around the 1960's/70's...I think ^^; So, yeah... Some Cold War shiz is goin' down. Alfred, right now, is in his last year of high school, so he's probably 18. Arthur, Kiku, Matthew (obviously?), Feliks, Toris, Feliciano, Lovino, Heracles, and Ludwig are the same age as Alfred. The rest are, um... somewhere between the ages of 1 and 100. That's all you need to know. *totally thought this out* Oh, I do know that Ivan is gonna be somewhere around 23 or so... And Poland's still gonna call Lithuania "Liet" because I couldn't think of something else... And Diego Martinez is Cuba.**

**By the way, I know that emo doesn't mean you sit in a room all day cutting your wrists and chanting, "I hate my life," like it's some type of cult. But generally people don't know that, so I'm going to assume Lovino isn't one of those people that would know the true meaning.. So don't think I'm stereotyping people ;A;**

**And should I have called it a preface instead of a prologue? Cuz it kinda takes place, like, 5 years from now ^^;**

"Alfred! Get down here!"

"Yeah, yeah, wait one second."

Arthur stomped his foot on the stairs. "No, you git! We're going to be late!"

Alfred huffed from his room upstairs and pounded down the steps. "Come on, Artie, we still got twenty minutes."

"First of all, it's, 'we still _have_ twenty minutes,' and second of all, it _takes_ twenty minutes to get to the school!"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, we woulda been there quicker if you'd let us take the bus."

The other gave a look of disgust. "Really, I can't comprehend why anyone would possibly wish to ride that filthy contraption."

Alfred stared at Arthur blankly.

He sighed. "Get out of the house. We'll take my car today."

"Yes!"

Alfred ran out of the house at full speed and jumped into the left side of the car. "Alright, hand me the keys Arthur!" he yelled out the window.

"What are you talking about, you twit? You're in the passenger seat," Arthur said, sliding gracefully into the right side of the car and starting it up.

Alfred gaped at the steering wheel on the opposite side miserably.

The car pulled out of the driveway, and Alfred shouted loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

"STUPID BACKWARDS BRITISH CARS!"

This was the wakeup call for Matthew Williams as he groggily opened his eyes from inside the now-empty house. He glanced at the clock and then looked out the window to see the empty driveway.

"They forgot me again..."

**Chapter 1: Legends of a Sillyhead**

Feliks walked next to Toris as they strolled down the hallway. "Like, where's Arthur and Alfred? They're going to, like, be totally late for class." The first bell rang as if to emphasize his point.

Almost immediately, Arthur came striding down the hall. "Good morning, Toris, Feliks," he said nodding to each.

"Oh good! You got here just in time!" Toris exclaimed happily and looked around. "But where's Alfred?"

"Bleeding git," he muttered, most presumably about the American. "He went to go save some cat in a tree for Heracles."

"Trying to be the 'hero' again?"

"What else?"

Toris sighed. "I don't think we can wait too much longer."

Feliks tugged on Toris and Arthur's sleeves and pulled them to the classroom. "Like, stop talking, or we'll be in for some major trouble with Mr. Martinez."

The three rushed to their seats and sat down just as the second bell rang.

The dark-skinned Cuban stood up and started writing something on the chalkboard. In a calm, yet firm voice, he said, "Alright, everyone, sit down. And Alfred, you have detention after school. Heracles, please sit down."

Alfred, who had just finished getting the remainder of leaves out of his hair, froze in shock, his mouth agape. "B-b-but, dude, Señor Martinez, w-what're you talking about?"

Diego smirked at the blonde as he turned around. "I haven't checked on it lately, but I seem to recall crawling through the window after class has started is still considered being late."

"Aw come on! I was helping Herc with something really important!"

Diego raised a brow at Heracles, and the Grecian boy sleepily nodded his confirmation of the statement.

"Mm-hmm… He was… helping me save… this… poor cat… from a tree." Heracles slowly lifted up a small black and brown feline from his lap.

The teacher shook his head disappointedly. "Heracles, you should have known better. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to wash the chalkboard after school."

Alfred's jaw dropped. "You serious, Mr. M? I get detention and all he's gotta do is wash the board?"

Placing his hand under his chin, Diego though for a moment. "Hm, you're right."

"Hell yeah, I'm right-"

"You can serve detention _and then_ wash _every_ board in the school. For the rest of the week." Without giving Alfred a chance to retort, he added, "And after that, you can practice your grammar."

Alfred slammed his face into his desk.

Matthew sighed at his brother's antics from across the room.

Thankfully for him, after he had walked out the house that morning, Ludwig's brother had been driving him to school and had happened to pass by.

_"He! Mattie! Over here!" Gilbert yelled unnecessarily loud in an attempt to get the boy's attention as he walked down the sidewalk. "Whatcha doin' walking when there's less than ten minutes left to get to school?"_

_ "Um, well, my brothers forgot to wake me up… again," Matthew admitted sadly._

_ "Ah." Gilbert pressed a button in the car, and a click sounded. "Why don't I drive you?"_

_ Matt blinked. "A-are you sure?"_

_ "Of course I am! I'm already driving lil' Lewdy over here-Ow!"_

_ Ludwig punched his brother's head in annoyance. "Bruder, please do not show off your stupidity to my classmates."_

_ Matthew smiled awkwardly as he nodded graciously and slid into the back seat._

_ "Thank you very much, Mr. Beilschmidt."_

_ "Aw, please don't add the 'Mister!' Makes me sound old. I mean, come on! I'm only two years older than you guys."_

_ "Yet you don't act like it," Ludwig murmured._

_ Gilbert stared angrily at Ludwig, his face turning red with embarrassment. _

_ Ludwig ignore it and turned around to smile at Matt. "Guten tag, Matthew."_

_ Matt nodded in return. "Bonjour, Ludwig."_

_ Still smiling, Ludwig pointed to the bar above Matthew's head. "There's grips. I suggest you use them."_

_ The Canadian gave the other a confused look. _

_ "P-pardon?" he gasped, almost choking on his words._

_ Gilbert pulled out a police siren and placed it on top of the car, not noticing Matthew's face was visibly paling as he gripped the bar for dear life._

_ On the other hand, Gilbert grinned madly and jammed his foot on the gas pedal. _

_ Matthew could not believe he had not screamed as loud as Alfred had as the car sped, undeniably over the speed limit, down the road._

Gilbert beat his record of getting to the school in less than two minutes that day. Coincidentally, that very short time was now the scariest moment of Matthew's life… and he was never getting in a car ever again if Gilbert was behind the wheel. Ludwig, still fuming, would make sure of it.

"Now, as I was saying before I was _rudely_ interrupted-"

Alfred growled dangerously, his face still flat on the desk.

"We have a very prestigious guest today. His father is the owner of a major Russian corporation. He won't be staying long, just observing for the rest of the period." After waiting for the excited chatter to die down, he turned to the doorway. "It's okay now."

From his place on the desk, Alfred could hear the slight sounds of airy footfalls as they entered the room.

"Thank you, Diego. My father also wishes to know if you are going to the meeting he is holding next week."

_Ohhh. First name basis_, Alfred thought mockingly.

"Haha! Of course! I would never even _think_ of missing it."

_Kiss up._

A giggle. "Very good! Privet everyone! My name is Ivan Braginsky, and I hate Americans!" he ended happily.

It was silent for quite a while.

And Alfred did not know why. He had not dozed off or anything… because, y'know… he totally had not been staying up all night reading comics. After a nudge from Kiku, Alfred lifted his eye above his arm, and almost immediately wished he had his brother's ability to become invisible.

Every eye in the classroom was on him.

"Uh, yeah, what is it?" he questioned bitterly.

He fidgeted, his eyes nervously darting from person to person.

Until they stopped.

Alfred froze. Standing at the front of the room was one of the most handsome he had ever seen.

And he didn't think about this too often.

The man was undoubtedly tall. His light beige-blond hair came a little below his ears. He wore a black suit, but his light pink scarf greatly contrasted this. But that wasn't what froze Alfred.

Not at all.

It was the eyes.

The violet eyes that seemed as though they could delve into one's soul and tear it apart from the inside.

The eyes of someone evil.

The eyes of someone who's been through immense pain and suffering.

The eyes of a communist.

The same eyes that were currently attempting to work on his soul.

Alfred did what any heroic person would do in this situation: he turned away.

Ivan smiled brightly as the small American boy quickly averted his gaze to avoid looking at him, but at least he wasn't like the rest of his class. Almost every student was shivering with fear, except...

His eyes landed on the Polish boy who smirked in response.  
"Like, hey Ivan," Feliks said, malice dripping from every word.

"Da, hello Feliks." A shaking mass on the verge of tears caught Ivan's eye. "Ah! Toris! So this is where you go to school? My father is expecting your family at the meeting as well." Ivan smiled innocently at Toris who could only nod.

"Y-y-yes."

Diego interrupted before things could go farther. "Ivan, I have to get on with the class so... if you don't mind..."

"Not at all."

Alfred watched the man, Ivan, stroll down to the back of the classroom and sit on the counter from the corner of his eye.

He gave one last glare and turned back to the front as Diego started teaching.

For about thirty minutes, the class went on normally enough. However, Alfred started to feel uncomfortable. A chill ran down his spine and his back felt prickly. He started to fidget, and beads of sweat started falling down his forehead. It felt like someone was watching him.

His trembling hand inched along silently to his pocket where he brought out a compact mirror. Okay, it was a present from Feliks. And it helped him when he needed to see if there was food on his face.

Alfred opened the mirror, and the first thing that the reflection showed him, was a pair of violet eyes.

Creep - no, as Feliks would say, a _total_ creep.

Ivan was full-on staring at Alfred.

Great. Alfred huffed, and tried to get back to taking notes, but every time he tried, the stare got more intense.

Just as he was about to turn around and yell, the bell rang.

Sighing with relief, Alfred instantaneously shot up and rapidly staggered out of the room.

Ivan gave a quiet chuckle.

**A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A**

Ah, lunch time. One of Lovino's favorite times of the day.

Feliciano looked down at his pasta sadly. "Ve... Mr. Martinez was really mean to Alfred today..."

"I guess you're right..." Ludwig spun around to look at Alfred who was currently sitting alone, his face in his hands. A depressing aura was surrounding him.

Lovino cringed. Lunch time was lunch time. Not let's-go-watch-Alfred-be-miserable-and-make-ourselves-upset-in-the-process time. No. That kind of time could cause indigestion.

"Hey, potato freak, instead of watching him, why don't you go away (from my brother), and go cheer up the American (so that way I don't have to deal with you)," Lovino snapped.

Feliciano smiled at Ludwig. "Yeah! That's a great idea!"

"I don't know..."

"Please! Please, Ludwig?" Feliciano put his hands together pleadingly and stuck out his lower lip.

"I-" Ludwig tried to look away, but couldn't. "... Fine."

"Yay!" Feliciano nudged Ludwig out of his seat happily, and Lovino went back to eating.

Ludwig stood up and sauntered over to where Alfred was sitting.

"Hello, Alfred."

Alfred glanced at the German and then put his face back into his hands.

"Oh... Hey."

"So... um, what's wrong?" It sounded pathetic, but then again, he wasn't too used to cheering people up.

Alfred groaned. "Everything. The hero shouldn't have to deal with this."

Ludwig sighed. "Aren't heroes supposed to be postitive?"

The other looked up. "Huh?"

A light bulb lit up in Ludwig's brain. "Yes, aren't heroes supposed to take whatever comes there way and make the best of it?"

"Y-yeah..."

"And heroes always help others, do they not?"

"Yes..."

"So you, being the hero, should help out everyone by being your usual joyous self."

Alfred's eyes brightened, he jumped up, and put one foot on his seat.

"Yeah! I'm the hero! I can do that!"

Ludwig flinched a little at the loudness of his voice, but at least he didn't have to worry now.

Until Lovino interrupted.

"Hey, stupid American, take all that joy and other crap, and go join the baseball team!"

Alfred stopped smiling.

Feliciano sat to the left of Ludwig. "Ve~ Hi, Alfred! I decided we should sit over here from now on! We don't really talk much, so this would be a great chance to be friends!"

"Y-y-yeah... Friends..." Alfred half-heartedly agreed.

Lovino plopped himself in between Ludwig and Feliciano.

"Potato freak, you do a crappy job of helping people."

Ludwig angrily pulled one the Italian's collar, pulling him beneath the table.

"Idiot! Don't you remember? Do _not_ bring up that type of stuff in front of him!" he whispered.

Slapping the hand off his collar, Lovino whispered back, "What stuff?"

"Sports. Especially baseball."

His eyes widened in realization. "Damn! I forgot about that!"

They both peeked their eyes above the table to see that Feliciano had taken care of the problem.

The other two were conversing about something. Both were laughing and eating pasta, which Feliciano had apparently shared.

Ludwig and Lovino sat up, Lovino straightening his shirt and Ludwig coughing,

Alfred looked at them as if nothing had happened. "Do you guys want some pasta? Feli makes it really good!"

"'_Well'_,you git."

Arthur sat down to Alfred's right, leaving room for Toris and Feliks to sit to the left of Alfred.

"Yo! Guys, I was afraid you weren't coming today."

"Of course we were coming, where else would we go?" Arthur said.

"Like, wasn't there some other guy with us?"

"I do recall there being someone else...," Toris said somewhat thoughtfully.

"I'm right here..."

It was quiet for a few moments.

"Must've been a ghost," Feliks said.

Alfred paled. G-g-g-g-ghost? "Um, guys, I gotta go, um... get ketchup. Right. Ketchup. And it's _way_ over there. So yeah... Go introduce yourselves to each other, and I'm gonna go." And he was gone.

An awkward silence plagued the group.

"Ve~ Hello there~! My name's Feliciano Vargas, and this is my brother Lov-"

A hand clamped over his mouth.

"They know who we are." Lovino looked at Ludwig. "Now, can you tell me why talking about sports turns Alfred emo?"

Feliks stopped fiddling with a lose piece of thread on his shirt. "Like, you don't know?"

"I know that the idiot gets upset over it, but why?"

Arthur, Toris, and Ludwig looked at each other.

"I don't think we should tell you... Al would have to be the one to say it...," Arthur said.

"Say what?"

Everyone froze as Alfred walked back, smiling obliviously.

"Just something about the weather!" Toris said frantically.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "No... I thought I heard my name."

Toris was going to say something, but Lovino beat him to it.

"What the hell happened with you and baseball?"

The American flinched, and his smile faltered slightly. Everyone held their breath.

"Y'know. Just an accident."

Lovino seemed to accept the answer, while everyone breathed with relief. Alfred sat back down.

The rest of lunch went on in silence.

**A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A**

He reached his hand into the bucket, and brought out a sponge oozing bubbles and suds. He slammed it onto the blackboard and started scrubbing.

"Stupid teacher. Stupid communist. Stupid school. Stupid Arthur. Stupid-"

Alfred kept muttering to himself after he had walked out from the most _boring_ detention _ever_. He was almost immediately given the bucket and told to start on the first floor.

While he scrubbed the board, he couldn't help but get lost in his thoughts.

_"Good job, Alfred!"_

_ "Alfred! That was an amazing hit!"_

_ "You could be on a one-way ticket to the greatest life anyone's ever led."_

_ "Son, you've just gotten a full scholarship to the University of South Carolina for your outstanding skills in baseball."_

_ "God, Alfred, I... I... You've just made me so proud to be your father!"_

Alfred smiled sadly. He wasn't going anywhere now.

**Chapter 1 End**

**Phobia Fact of the Day: **Ophthalmophobia- Fear of being stared at

Quote of the Day: "Communism is like one big phone company." – Lenny Bruce

**That seemed like a good place to cut it off :3 God... I didn't even edit this chapter...**

**Does someone wanna do that for me? *shot* If you see ANY spelling, grammatical, or just any mistakes, then just tell me. Seriously, I don't mind. It helps my writing skills.**

**So is it kinda still ambiguous? I hope so... And this chapter was supposed to be mostly for some laughs... Except for the small bits of angst... But it was supposed to put some questions in your head... I think? **

**Seriously, any mistakes, just tell me.**

**Oh! And I was researching and I came across something that said the University of South Carolina-Columbia is, like, the best college for baseball... I don't know if that's true, but this is where I got it from**

**http**** : / webcache. googleusercontent. Com / search ? q = cache : 0Ml5PdH9vBwJ : coralreefbaseball . com / news_ %26 _notes / Baseball _Colleges _2005 . htm + colleges + that + are + good + for + baseball & cd = 1 & hl = en & ct = clnk & gl = us**

**Just take out the forty or something spaces I put in there ^^;**

**HAVE ANY OF YOU BEEN WATCHING THE HETALIA DUB CLIPS?**

**I'M SO HAPPY. IT'S ACTUALLY ADEQUATE.**

**AND. VIC MIGNOGNA. IS. NOT. AMERICA. *couldn't be happier***

**AND FRANCE'S, "CAN YOU STOP RELEASING SEXUAL TENSION?"**

**I think fangirls everywhere screamed at that.**

**So yup! Thanks for reading! And see that little button at the bottom? Yes, the one that says "Review?" I'd be really grateful if you clicked it. That little guy can feel very deprived sometimes, so he needs some love ^w^ **

**Au revoir everyone! **


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